


Olde Redemption Flair

by ThrowYourChaosInNeutralAndDrive



Series: Takes Two To Tango (a twoshot) [1]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: alastor moves in on charlie, cuz hell, featuring angel's totes adorb piggy, mentions of torture and lots of r rated cursing, the one n' only Nugs, watch some of the extended vids related to HH if u don't know who Fat Nuggets is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21862540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrowYourChaosInNeutralAndDrive/pseuds/ThrowYourChaosInNeutralAndDrive
Summary: Welp – y’all know those posts that say there’s a special place in Hell for animal abusers?This is that.Charlie has to investigate a noise complaint in her hotel and somebody gets more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Alastor/Charlie Magne, Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Series: Takes Two To Tango (a twoshot) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575025
Comments: 8
Kudos: 111





	Olde Redemption Flair

The Hotel was having one of its Blow Out Sales Events. 

And no, sadly Angel’s offers to blow anyone who ‘came’ on down to check-in had been edited out of the commercial Charlie aired across Hell. Alastor had helped _persuade_ the demons at the TV station to give them a slot since being heir apparent didn’t count for much whilst Papa Dearest was gone. 

Things below weren’t much different from things above, honestly. When the Beast’s away, the fuckups will play. 

On the topic of fucking up – Angel really hoped no one found out that he’d dismantled the smoke detector in his room. 

Or that he’d accidently dyed the tub pink with his overuse of bath bombs. 

Or that he had ten kilos of coke stashed under his bed. 

His hips swished as he walked his adorable pet pig-thing down the windy hallways of the Titanic Wing. 

Fat Nuggets snuffled and snorted happily. His cute heart-shaped snout investigated the peeling wallpaper with the pitchfork designs and when he chased a cluster of roaches across the carpet he managed to scarf a few. 

“Easy on the snacks, sweetie-sty,” Angel cooed. 

“GET BACK HERE YOU WORTHLESS SLIPPERY BITCH!!”

Now usually hearing something like this screamed at him was no surprise to Angel. Especially after having worked for Valentino. But it caused him to jump nonetheless. 

Because it wasn’t being screamed at him. 

That scrawny cigarette demon who’d become their guest as of this morning was yelling through the thick metal boat walls like they were paper. Angel winced and had to make sure his eardrums weren’t bleeding. 

Who the hell was Secondhand Smoke roaring at? 

Hadn’t he signed in solo? 

Wait…….

A little hydra-hybrid had been with him. 

One of those exotic and experimental pets. 

Ciggy’s lil bundle of three scaly heads had been introduced to the Hazbin crew as Veni Vidi Vici. Apparently ‘rescued’ from the monster mill Charlie had called in a favor (read: called Mommy) to have shut down downtown. 

Uh-huh……

“Wonder if he rescued _Vvv_ or if he’s a splicer that smuggled out a meal ticket before Charlie literally sent the place to double Hell. Wutchu think Nugs?” 

Angel’s smile was cold and cruel. 

He could take a lot of things in the underworld. Punches, disappoint, lots of dick – (sometimes those last two went hand-in-hand). But something that always sat sour in his guts was animal abuse. 

It made him mean. 

He’d lost a tooth near Radio Hack over bitch-slapping some chick shaking her prized hellhound puppy in its carrier. 

“Daddy might get more gold teeth for this,” Angel confessed to his pig. _“But Nic-Prick is gonna need a wheelchair.”_

More coarse all-caps exclamations were being shouted from behind the door of Room 969. 

“Did you shed on my floor?! Veni!! Don’t look at Vidi or Vici you guilty cumstain!!” 

Angel interrupted this _lovely_ tirade with a knock at the door. 

“Ahem. **OPEN UP MUTHAFUCKA!!”**

“You housekeeping? Read the damn do-not-disturb sign!” 

“I’M THE FAG WHO’S GONNA KICK YOUR ASS. **OPEN. UP.”**

Angel mowed down the door with his tommy gun and as you can probably guess – all hell broke loose.

* * *

Charlie responded to the noise complaint as quickly as she could. 

There was a total of eight other guests besides Mr. Shadee – a new record for them. But Mr. Shadee (spelled with two e’s) had been placed one floor below Mrs. Cheater (the ‘t’ was silent) and the latter had just called the Front Desk to deliver some seriously worded concerns about _the ruckus_ distracting her from her ‘me time’. 

Shadee had a creature with him. This was fine. The Hotel allowed creatures board in certain areas so long as the owners were responsible for them. 

Chasing a terrified snake-ball around Room 969 with a hatchet while Angel tried to Swiss cheese you with bullets was way against Hotel rules. 

Where had Shadee gotten the axe anyway? It looked suspiciously like the one that hung over the pool table in the game room for decoration. 

Irrelevant. 

**“WHAT IN LUCIFER’S NAME** _IS HAPPENING_ **UNDER MY ROOF?!!”**

Fire, brimstone, and all manners of magma swirled around the Princess of Hell who rarely tapped into what she internally classified as ‘the Old Man’s temper’. Her commanding tone caught the attention of Angel and Shadee. 

So did her powers when they split a crack through the center of the room. A room which was filling with smoke and shrieking furies – the spirits Charlie could summon when peeved.

Obsidian wisps with twisting and ghastly faces wrapped around the porn star and the splicer’s legs. The furies alternated between moaning and cackling as the lava got closer to each of the stuck demons. 

Fat Nuggets cowered in the corner with Vini Vidi Vici. 

Charlie strode forward, eyes entirely crimson, soul steadily becoming entirely void of patience. 

“Angel, why are you attacking our guest?”

“Cuz he’s scum! He’s tryin’ to chop up Vvv!” 

Angel’s nickname for the pet (pronounced like a drawn out ‘v’ sound) was more indicative of his affection for critters than it was for his childish sass. He thought up nicknames for everybody. 

And he didn’t give two shits if you called him uncreative crap like slut, cocktease, or cake-eater if you were Alastor. 

But Heaven forbid you call Fat Nuggets something like Bacon. Even as a joke. 

“Bloodshed is not permitted on the premises,” Charlie informed Shadee. 

The demon gazed around at the destruction and ash now snowing in his room. 

“Coulda fooled me.” 

Shadee used his strange rolled up body (it really did resemble a cigarette with arms and legs – plugwrap paper, brand logo, and all) to reach for his suite’s chandelier. 

He grabbed the bottom of the light fixture and used the leverage to pull himself out of the grasp of the furies. He landed on a patch of undamaged floor. 

“I paid to stay here. Since you have to charge now to keep this place…..afloat.” 

The Titanic, so haphazardly attached to the main building, creaked as if to reinforce his comment. Charlie’s rage had all but split the vessel in half a second time. 

“Get outta my room, Princess.” Shadee glared at Charlie. She grit her fangs. “Before you get hurt.”

* * *

“Can you _believe_ this nonsense?”

“Not really. Hell is, I’m afraid madam, a place for non-believers.” 

Alastor walked in time with Mrs. Cheater down the hallway. The nearer they drew to the Titanic Wing the more of a hubbub could be heard. The Radio Demon wasn’t worried by the unholy howls echoing off the walls. 

None of them belonged to Charlie so he didn’t see a reason to escalate his stroll to a gallop, let alone a trot or (what did Husk call Niffty’s cleaning sprees?) – an epic effing ass-hauling. 

Vaggie was the one who’d taken the hellevator since she felt like being hasty.

“Hmph. I was under the impression this was a top-tier establishment. What with the pedigree of the owner.” 

Al glanced at the middle-aged sinner in the pastel dress showcasing a plunging neckline. Any skin or cleavage she might’ve exposed was covered in layers upon layers of jewels. It was equally interesting that she was wearing sky blue _and_ she’d somehow managed to bring earthly possessions to the afterlife. 

As far as Alastor knew, the you-can’t-take-it-with-you clause applied to the redeemed and the damned. How had the demoness bucked the system?, he wondered. 

“Have some charity Mrs. Cheater.” 

“It’s _Cheer,”_ she corrected him none too cheerfully. 

“As you say, cher.” 

Alastor let a bit of his Cajun accent come out. While alive, he’d charmed many a victim into a false sense of security with it. Mrs. Cheater was no exception. She grinned and readjusted the fox stole looped over her shoulders. 

“Close enough,” she murmured. 

They continued towards where the fight was taking place. Alastor kept his arms comfortably crossed behind him. Mikey rested in his clutches like a cane. 

“I’m sure there’s a good excuse for the commotion.” 

There wasn’t. 

Charlie had completed obliterated Mr. Shadee. Crisps of him could be seen drifting here and there. She hadn’t up and erased him however. He was still alive as it were. Miss Magne’s furies were digging hot pokers into his thin skin. 

When he’d screeched himself hoarse, only then did Charlie call off her minions and demand that they evict the boarder and leave him outside so he could ‘pull himself together’. 

Alastor wasn’t just impressed. He was giddy. 

Angel looked traumatized. 

“Er – Charlie. Can I keep Vvv? I know the rule’s a single pet to a guest but-”

Charlie didn’t answer save with demonic rumblings. She waved Angel away passively. 

Alastor approached her, admiring her horns and just overall aura. 

“Need help?” he asked. 

Charlie huffed. Sparks exited with her exhale. She was every inch a gorgeous Dragon Lady. 

“No. I handled it.” 

“I can see that.” 

Red met red. 

Charlie weighed the Radio Demon with a look which found too much delight in his half-lidded eyes, extra teeth in his usually huge smile, and shadows that had a lot in common with her own. Her pupils came back. She felt guilty for how her heart had raced just then. 

Whether over Alastor’s approval or her general sadism, she didn’t want to know. Both were terrible of her and perhaps it had been some of both. Culprit(s) not just a culprit. 

_Damn._

Charlie turned from him. 

“This shitshow finally burning to the ground?” asked Husk. 

The concierge had left his post to see what was knocking all the portraits off the walls in the lobby. Flask in hand, he surveyed what remained of Room 969. He didn’t waste any of his brew on the flames but he did try and beat his wings to extinguish a couple of fires. 

He made them worse. 

Yet, given how he rolled his eyes and took another drink it was clear he didn’t care.

Niffty appeared at his side. She beheld the whole situation that was 969 differently. She gasped and tittered and began to go at the room with bucket of water she’d got from who knows where. 

“Oh geeze. Oh dearie. Oh shucks.” 

The pink house elf’s bucket magically refilled and soon she had the room under control. Or, at the very least, less broiling. 

Since the hellevator had made several stops on its journey to floor nine (thank the compulsive woodpecker demon whose beak pecked all the floor buttons) Vaggie arrived last to the party. 

She spotted her girlfriend, still sporting horns and radiating confliction amid the carnage. 

“Charlie..” 

Before she could go to her, Mrs. Cheater stepped in front of her, pointing to Vini Vidi Vici as Angel scooped him up. 

“Is that Medusa’s wig? Can I have it for my collection?” 

“Mrs. Cheater -” Vaggie started. 

“It’s pronounced _Cheer_ godammit!” 

Vaggie pinched her nose and fought the urge to spit the woman on her harpoon. 

“Why don’t you go with Husk to tour our graveyard gardens? There’s bones from ancient demons out there. Some of the rarest and most exquisite in Pentagram City.” 

Husk was about to protest but Vaggie gagged him with a hand over his mouth. Mrs. Cheater sighed but nodded. 

“Very well. Anything for some peace and quiet. I hope you’re not overly chatty.” 

The cat demon hissed at Vaggie but said nothing when he received a stern ‘go-on’ shove from her. He decided he’d leave a furball under her pillow later. And maybe something grosser in her and Charlie’s shared bathroom. 

Vaggie tried consoling Charlie with an embrace. The Princess wriggled out of it. 

“I got bad vibes from that guy. His name was Shadee after all.” 

“If you came to say ‘I told you so’, you can leave.” 

Vaggie clasped Charlie’s shoulders which were bunching. 

“Of course not. I came to see if you were alright.” 

Her Princess cast her gaze forlornly at the damage she had wrought. 

“Well I’m perfectly fine,” she said with a bitter chuckle. “It’s the guest who got torn to pieces.” 

“Babe -” 

“Out. All of you. I want to be left alone.” 

Charlie dismissed them. Her furies nudged Vaggie who was lingering and even had the audacity to tug at Alastor’s coattails. He went along with it out of sheer amusement. 

“You as well, Niffty,” said Charlie, softly but somberly. Her demeanor hadn’t reverted completely back to the girl they all adored. She was taller than the maid and loomed over her, slightly threatening. 

“Yes ma’am,” said Niffty, bobbing her head. 

The group of them: Angel (plus his pets), Vaggie, Niffty, and the Radio Demon exited the room. 

Alastor pinched his servant’s cheek and thanked her for her work. “Well done.” Niffty swelled with pride. 

“Like McShadee after Charlie bbqued him.”

“Shut it, Angel,” Vaggie mumbled. 

Charlie shut the door to the room she’d demolished. The banter of her friends soon faded down the hall. 

And she finally understood what she was capable of. 

Had she actually done…..all this? 

Who was she kidding trying to redeem sinners? When she herself…..

…was a monster?

* * *

A knock at the door. 

“Charlie?” 

No answer. 

Alastor knocked again. 

Muffled and irritated royalty responded to him. 

“G’way. I’m fixing what I broke.” 

He re-entered Room 969 at his own peril. They’d given Charlie her space and time for three hours and she hadn’t come downstairs. She’d missed dinner. Very sad news for her because Alastor had whipped up a superb crawfish boil. 

His business partner languished atop the room’s bed, crying into an anagrammed hotel pillow. The room was still in shambles. 

“Is it going well?” he asked. Rhetorically. 

“Obviously not.” 

Charlie hugged her pillow harder. She sniffled. And flinched when the Radio Demon rested a palm on her back. 

Alastor took a seat next to her on the bed. He waited until the sobs subsided, rubbing soothing circles up and down her spine. 

Eventually, Charlie asked what was on her mind and plaguing her soul. 

“Why did he check-in if he didn’t want to change?”

Alastor and his shadow tilted their heads in mock thought. Regardless, he answered her sincerely and quickly since he knew the truth. 

“Change is the devil to accomplish but easy to lie about.” 

Charlie groaned. Alastor thought he heard grunts of “stupid” and “don’t bring pops into this” confessed to the sheets. 

“I spoke with Stolas,” he revealed. “He was a splicer on the run and he decided to hide right under your nose since word is circulating around Hell that, in spite of your family tree, you are easy to deceive.”

Charlie shifted so that she was on her side. But not facing him. She wasn’t ready to face him. She felt like such a failure. 

“You sound like my dad. Trees this and trees that. God, I just want to help people.” 

“What a cosmic irony that you do.” 

“I know. You’re only here to laugh at me. Couldja kinda do it elsewhere, Al? I need to fall apart in private.” 

Alastor’s hand, which had left her back when she moved, traveled to an ankle. He stroked a thumb over the pale flesh covering the bone. It was at once friendly and _too friendly_ a gesture. 

“Tell me to go and I will.” 

He wasn’t lying. 

Charlie just had to banish him like she’d banished he and the others earlier. But she couldn’t give the order. His presence was…..soothing.

“Shadee told me he abused a great deal of the animal kingdom when he was on Earth. And that he regretted it,” she said. 

Why was she admitting that she’d been fooled? Angel might’ve pulled the wool over her eyes at the offset but hey – he was a nice deviant deep down. That is – he wasn’t an **unforgivable** cretin determined to front his way through treatment. Anymore. He’d commit heinous acts like graffiti-ing dicks on billboards and working certain Red Light district corners without a license. But he’d never harm a familiar. 

“I’ve never seen dogs or horses or reptiles. Not normal ones. Just anthropomorphic demons and – y’know – my dad when he shapeshifts.” 

Longing swept through Charlie Magne like it had since she was born. Her parents had educated her about the planet where others had been given their chance but she was barred from visiting. Eternally. 

“I wish I could walk through a forest and hear the birds sing,” she mused. “Pretty ones with pretty voices. Down here it’s just gargoyles growling all the time. Or chittering bats.” 

Alastor hummed. 

“You wouldn’t like forests. A beautiful garden would better fit your style.” 

“Is that an Eden reference? Whatever. Any garden’s greater than the stinking cemetery we’ve got out back. Even a ceramic gnome covered one. Vaggie explained those to me.” 

A beat of silence. 

“Dad brags about how easy it was to trick you.” 

Alastor paused in his ankle-stroking. His expression darkened. Did the Princess know of the King and he’s misunderstanding from a couple of decades’ past? 

“I can’t believe humans had it all and they screwed it up,” Charlie finished. 

Ah. 

‘You’ as in humanity. 

Well that was dandy. And he had zero problems with the disdain dripping from her statement. In fact, he rather agreed with her. 

“Alastor. What were you…before?” 

“A hunter.” 

Charlie moved her ankle out of his reach. She sat up and faced him. 

“What was your prey?” 

“It was more a question of who, my deer.” 

He was smiling. As always. 

Charlie’s intuition informed her that the Radio Demon was deadly. Even after death and in Hell. He continued to hunt. And she knew that she counted as a target. 

He wanted to see her fall like the rest. 

“I won’t be easy.” 

Alastor grinned and leaned in until they were almost nose-to-nose. 

“Oh, of that I’m sure,” he purred.

**Author's Note:**

> Mikey is what I call Alastor’s talking mic stand. He’ll get more air time if I add more oneshots to my Al vs. Doomguy series. Which I intend to. Eventually. 
> 
> Life is effin’ busy. 
> 
> I truly lurve this web series dudes. 
> 
> The main antag/possible anti-hero is friggin’ awesome. He’s like the crack baby of Alucard and Him (from Powerpuff Girls) nobody was decent enough to inform me existed. 
> 
> Can you say ‘sold’? 
> 
> Not my soul. Just my interest. 
> 
> Part 2 to this mini-adventure in the link. s’just an extra darker scene with some ‘headcanons’ pertaining to the Strawberry Pimp’s backstory


End file.
